


Drifting Home

by intotheruins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biting, Canon Compliant, Dean/Benny Big Bang 2016, Frottage, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Prank Wars, Season 8, Texting, basically fluff, with a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:06:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7402021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intotheruins/pseuds/intotheruins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an encounter on Prentiss Island, Dean finds himself continually drifting towards Benny even as he tries to repair his relationship with Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drifting Home

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [ava-wilson-spn](http://ava-wilson-spn.tumblr.com) and [my-wayward-karma](http://my-wayward-karma.tumblr.com) for their help with the first and second draft, and to [castielsstar](http://castielsstar.tumblr.com) for editing the final draft! (It looks sooooo much better, Jess! <3)
> 
> Also thank you to [alicemorgansgf](http://alicemorgansgf.tumblr.com) for the awesome art!

 

Prentiss Island really did remind Dean of Purgatory. It was just as quiet, just as washed out in the pale moonlight. Benny was beside him, the fire of the fight still hot beneath his skin… except it wasn’t as pure, hadn’t tasted this sour in the place where fight or flight were the only options available.

Down there, Dean hadn’t worried about killing someone his friend had once loved.

Dean scowled and glanced at Benny as Sam’s words rang in his mind: “ _All your friends are dead!”_

Sam was wrong, damn it. All his friends weren't dead. Not yet.

The wind was frigid. Little gusts of it kept slithering down the back of Dean's neck, caressing any skin it could reach with the damp, salty feel of the sea. The hunter shivered, fingers clenching around his make-shift Purgatory blade. Beside him, Benny was nothing but a silhouette—head bowed and shoulders slumped. Too damn dark to really see, but Dean remembered the look on his face when he took Andrea’s head off with perfect clarity.

On impulse, Dean cupped a hand around the back of the vampire’s neck.

"Dean?"

Dean sucked in a sharp breath. The last time he felt like this, he was eighteen years old and on his first hunt with someone other than Dad. The guy’s name was Kurt Summers, thirty-two years old. They took down a wendigo somewhere in the Rocky Mountains, and afterward they couldn’t stop touching each other.

Another gust of wind swirled around Dean’s exposed throat. Despite the chill, Dean was sweaty and radiating heat, and Benny’s skin was cool and dry.

Benny tilted his head. The dark shape of him leaned in towards Dean. He didn’t try to pull away when Dean’s fingers tightened around his neck.

“This is real,” Dean murmured.

The wind snatched at the words, but Dean still heard Benny’s sharp intake of breath and the quiet thump of his blade striking the ground. Dean squeezed his hand around Benny’s neck before letting go to drop his blade and bag to the ground. He reached out blindly, hands tangling in Benny’s suspenders—he made himself pause, wait for any sign that he was reading this wrong.

When it didn’t come, Dean yanked him in.

They went down right there in the dirt, Benny’s solid weight pinning Dean on his back. Hands fumbled coats down strong arms and yanked open buttons. He shivered hard when Benny got a palm on his bare chest, cool at first but warming against Dean’s skin by the time Benny hooked it around the back of his neck.

The vampire’s breath ghosted over his cheeks, surprisingly warm. Dean parted his lips to offer up his own, but neither of them closed the distance.

The wind shrieked when Benny lurched back, scrabbling at Dean's zipper, then his own, tearing the fabric in haste. He worked Dean’s hard cock out through the slit in his boxers and for a moment, the hunter was back in Purgatory—eyes wide and wild, every nerve sparking at the faintest sound. Shadows slid over his face; his body went taut and unyielding even as Benny slotted back into place between his spread thighs. He rolled their hips together and Dean arched into it, a quiet moan breaking against clenched teeth. He grabbed at Benny’s shoulders, clawing until he’d ripped the shirt away before shrugging out of his own.

“Come on, come on,” Dean growled, tugging until Benny went limp on top of him, full weight bearing down, so that he could hardly move. The vampire’s face burrowed into the crook of Dean’s left shoulder and he arched his head back—didn’t stop to think about what he was offering.

Benny grunted out something that might have been “ _Brother,”_ as Dean turned his face into his discarded coat.

“Do it.”

Benny shoved himself up onto his forearms. His hips stuttered against Dean’s as sharp points brushed over Dean’s skin, teasing at the soft juncture of his neck and shoulder. Dean hissed, his fingers biting down into the thick muscle of Benny’s back.

The hunter bent his knees, so he could tuck them in against Benny’s hips. He buried his face further into his coat and growled, “I trust you.”

It burned when the fangs sank into him. Dean grit his teeth, toes curling as the pain seared down his shoulder. Benny’s frantic thrusts quickened and Dean arched up to meet him—the hurt got so tangled in pleasure that Dean couldn’t separate them. His hands went slack, sliding uselessly to the ground. His legs fell open and he lay there, limp and helpless against the searing heat until Benny carefully withdrew his fangs, the slow drag making Dean hiss and buck his hips against the vampire’s.

Benny swiped his tongue over the mark, pressed down hard into the ache of it. Dean came with a bitten off curse. He rode it out until he went limp from the stimulation, shuddered with over-sensitivity as Benny grunted through his own orgasm and finally collapsed on top of him.

Above them, the wind howled. Dean pressed his cheek against Benny’s hair and watched the leaves quake and cling to their branches.

“You’re heavy,” Dean muttered. Benny chuckled and obligingly slid off to one side. He left an arm tossed over the hunter’s waist, and Dean didn’t say anything about it.

“Tilt your head a bit,” Benny requested.

Dean grumbled in protest, but tipped his head away from the softness of Benny’s hair. A second later he felt the vampire’s tongue swipe over the bite mark in soft, gentle little licks.

Dean said, “I feel like a kitten, man,” and grinned when more laughter rumbled against his skin.

“Just helpin’ it close up,” Benny assured him. “Should be all healed in a few days.”

A frown furrowed in between his brows, but he simply nodded. “Sam’s probably waiting,” he said, and just like that they were up and brushing themselves off, wincing as they tucked themselves back into their pants and pulled their shirts over dirt and stickiness.

It was even colder when they left the shelter of the trees. The wind dipped down over the water and scooped the damp chill of it right into the boat. Dean shoved the hand he wasn’t using to hold himself upright deep into his jacket pocket and let a shiver roll through his body.

Before they reached the dock, Dean said quietly, “Sorry about Andrea.”

Benny glanced at him. He offered a small, tight smile and a single nod.

Sam was already there by the time they arrived at the dock. A machete was strapped to his side, and his shoulders were a rigid line as narrow eyes tracked Dean leaping out to tie up the boat. Dean avoided his brother’s gaze until the last second, hyper aware of Benny coming up behind him, the throb of the bite mark hidden beneath the collar of his coat, and the tacky pull of come on his stomach.

“You must be Sam,” Benny said, tone warm and friendly as he stepped up to offer his hand. Dean didn’t miss the way his eyes fell briefly to the weapon at Sam’s hip.

Slowly, Sam took Benny’s hand. His eyes widened just a fraction and one hand fell to his blade, snapping open the sheath as his eyes flicked to Dean for confirmation.

Dean shook his head.

Benny pulled his hand away and Sam let him go, jaw clenching.

“I can see you two have a lot to talk about.” Benny clapped a hand to Dean’s shoulder, offered him a quick smile before he slipped past Sam.

Dean watched him until he reached his truck, nodded to him when Benny turned to toss him one last look before he climbed into the cab.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was tight. His jaw clenched again, fingers dancing over the hilt of the machete.

“He’s my friend," Dean blurted.

Sam’s eyebrows leaped upwards. He sucked in a sharp breath, gestured a little wildly at the truck pulling out onto the road. “He’s a vampire!”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered. Then he turned on his heel and strode in the direction of the Impala.

“Dean!”

Dean shoved shaking hands into his pockets. He was pulling out the keys and fumbling to get the door unlocked before Sam appeared on the passenger side. He slammed his hands down on the roof of the car and Dean flinched. The keys jingled when they struck the ground.

“What the hell, Dean?”

“He’s the reason I made it out of Purgatory,” Dean snapped. He bent down and snatched up the keys, shoving them furiously into the lock. “He’s clean, okay? Bagged blood only.”

Sam snorted. Dean yanked open the door and slid into the seat, tried hard not to just plant his forehead on the wheel and pretend Sam wasn’t there. _You left me. You left me for a year and I just had Benny and Cas and you can't_ …

Dean sucked in a sharp breath. They promised they wouldn’t try to find each other again. No more deals, no more putting their own lives at risk to save the other. It was just… Dean didn’t think Sam would really do it. He didn’t think he could have kept that promise if it had been _Sam_ stuck down in Purgatory.

“You really believe that?” Sam slammed the door and leveled Dean with that look, the one that managed to convey disappointment and anger and sadness all at once.

“Yeah,” Dean said, hoarse. “I do.”

Sam was quiet for so long that Dean finally sat back and started up the Impala.

He’d driven for nearly ten miles when Sam whispered, “You didn’t believe Amy.”

Dean wanted to say that was different. He was in the right there, she was losing control and it wouldn’t have done anyone any good to let her live. Except that it wasn’t different. It was all the goddamn same, Dean just didn’t know how to say it. Couldn’t even dredge up the “sorry” hovering cold and scared at the back of his throat.

So he didn’t say anything. He turned on the radio and cranked it up until Sam gave up trying to talk.

~

    | **you doing ok?**

Dean’s thumb hovered over the send button. Other than to let Benny know that he had a new phone, they hadn’t contacted each other in nearly three days.

He tossed a glance out the windshield to make sure Sam was still dealing with the gas station attendant. It was one of those days they could pretend everything was okay. Dean wanted them to be okay, so badly that sometimes he found himself trying to will it into existence, and it made him reluctant to do anything that might break the shaky truce.

He punched the send button anyway, just as Sam hit the door with an armload of snacks.

“Here.” Sam slid into his seat and tossed a box of Red Vines down by Dean’s thigh. Two bags of Ruffles and a packet of trail mix followed. “No coffee, their machine was out of order.”

Dean tore open his candy and stuck one between his teeth, sucking happily as he started up the car. Sam rolled his eyes, but he did it with a fondness that let something in Dean relax. If Sam was still capable of looking at him like that, there might be hope for them to come out of this mess in one piece.

“How many more miles?” Sam asked.

“Couple hundred.”

“‘K. I’m gonna take a nap.”

It was two hours later when Dean felt his phone buzz against his hip. Sam was out cold against the window, mouth soft and open as he drooled onto his own shoulder. Dean eased the Impala onto the side of the road, so he wouldn’t wake his brother and dug out his phone. Sam mumbled and curled into himself, but otherwise gave no sign that he might be waking up.

    | **doing alright today. how’d your brother take it?**

Sam muttered something about shoes under his breath and slid down the door a little. His massive frame was slowly sprawling out along the seat, and if Dean didn't poke him soon he knew for a fact he'd end up with Sam's feet in his lap.

    | **not so good. we're ok right now though**

    | **good**

Good. Just good. Dean stroked his thumb over the word and smiled.

He tucked the phone back into his pocket and got them back out onto the road.

Sam's feet did end up in his lap.

~

They were staying in a motel near Salina, Kansas, two days later. Sam was sound asleep, breathing deep and even. No hitches or scared little words, which meant no nightmares. Dean lay on his back and listened—he’d given up trying to sleep three hours ago.

Two fingers lazily kneaded at the fading bite mark on his shoulder. It should have healed by now, but Dean kept fussing with it, pulling it open and pressing the bruise in deep.

One of their phones buzzed on the nightstand. The vibration was far too loud in the early morning silence. Dean quickly rolled onto his side and snatched up the one with the lit screen—his own, as it turned out. Sam grunted and shifted to bury his face in the pillow. Dean watched the dark shape of him in the orange glare of the streetlight filtering in through the thin curtains, fingers clenched tight around the phone until Sam settled back in with a soft sigh.

Dean waited another few seconds before checking his messages.

    | **tell me what you'll do to me if I slip up**

Dean’s heart leaped up to lodge itself somewhere in his throat. He swallowed it back down and rapidly tapped out:

    | **kick your ass straight back to purgatory**

He wasn’t sure if that was true. He punched send anyway.

    | **thanks**

    | **no problem. need me to call?**

    | **nah, I'm ok now**

    | **k. this is real**

~

Cas was back.

He’d been back for nearly twenty-four hours, but Dean still couldn’t quite believe it.

The angel was sitting on the end of Sam’s bed, flipping steadily through channels. He’d paused only twice, once for a documentary on bees and once on the news. Each time he’d smiled and tilted his head in that curious, familiar way that Dean hadn’t realized he missed so much until he’d seen it again.

Sam was sitting at the tiny table by the door, fingers flying over the keys of his laptop as he searched for any new cases. Occasionally, he’d toss a glance in Castiel’s direction. Every time he saw Cas smiling he would smile, too, one of those big grins that Dean hadn’t seen in far too long. Then he’d go right back to typing, warmth lingering in the curl of his mouth and the deepened crinkles in the corners of his eyes.

They were all back together. Everyone was _safe._

Dean surged to his feet and ripped open the door, barely resisting the urge to slam it behind him.

Outside, the sun had dipped below the horizon. The air was cooling as the last of the light faded from the sky. Dean sucked in a deep lungful of it and closed his eyes against the twisting ache in his gut.

He wasn’t fighting with Sam. Castiel was safe. So much of Dean wanted to preserve that, but the rest of him was certain it wasn’t going to last.

There was a soda machine down by the office. Dean took another breath and trudged towards it, shoving one hand in his pocket to see if he had any change. The quarters from their last trip to the laundromat jingled as Dean’s fingers combed through them. He pulled them out and counted out $3—enough for three sodas, so long as the machine didn’t charge out the ass for them.

He was halfway there when he pulled out his phone and dialed.

_"Hey, brother. Glad you called, I'm havin' a bit of a rough day."_

"Yeah?" The tension in Dean's gut eased under a flood of warmth. He tucked the phone against his ear with one shoulder as he reached the machine, paused, then dumped the coins back in his pocket. He turned and leaned back against the cool plastic. "Don't make me come after you."

He was only half teasing, but Benny chuckled anyway. _"Nah, you won't have to. What's goin' on?"_

"Nothing. I just came out to get a soda."

There was a pause. Dean heard something slam, then the creak of a door opening. _"Did you call for a reason?"_ Benny asked.

"Oh." Dean shoved a hand back into his pocket and swirled a finger through the coins. "Um. Not really?"

_"Well, that's all right. You don't need a reason to call me."_

Dean grinned. He braced his shoulders against the machine, so he could cross his ankles, and swirled his fingers through the coins again.

"Cas is back," Dean said after a moment. "He doesn't remember how he made it out, which is just friggin' great, but..."

He wanted to say he didn't care, he was just glad Cas was home, but as usual it all got caught in his throat.

 _"I'm glad he's okay,"_ Benny said, like it was that easy. Dean had to close his eyes, so he didn't say something stupid in gratitude.

When he opened them, it was just in time to see the curtain flick back over the window of their room. He wondered briefly if it was Sam or Cas, and if he was going to have to face any questions when he went back inside.

“So where are you right now?” Dean shoved himself off the machine and ran a finger over the selection, wondering if Cas would like Coke or root beer.

_"Carencro, Louisiana. My hometown. Found some family here, too."_

"No way." Dean fed quarters into the machine and punched Coke. "Like what, a grandkid or something?"

 _"Great grandkid,"_ Benny corrected. _"She runs the cafe I used to work at. Far as she's concerned I'm just a drifter, but still. It's nice to find a home."_

Home. Dean stabbed the Coke button again and, after a second's hesitation, one more time. "That's awesome. I gotta go back in before Sam comes out and starts asking questions."

_"All right. Take care, Dean."_

"You, too."

Dean tucked the phone back into his pocket and scooped out the sodas. Home was his Baby and the open road, Sam in the passenger seat and, if he was lucky, Cas in the back. He couldn’t imagine one stable place to call home. Not even Lisa and Ben had felt that way, more like an extended hunt—complete with the stir-craziness and the itch to be back behind the wheel.

Still. He was kinda glad Benny had found it.

Cas hadn’t moved from his spot when Dean opened the door, but Sam had shifted so he was partially facing the window. He relaxed when Dean shut the door, subtle enough, but he still tossed Dean a suspicious look. Dean offered him a thin smile and a Coke, and Sam sighed and took it with nothing more than a nod.

He was just as tired of fighting as Dean was.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean waited until Castiel looked away from the TV before tossing a Coke his way.

Cas caught it one-handed. He turned it over to peer curiously at the label. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean clapped him on the shoulder. He half expected his hand to just pass through the angel, but Cas was warm and solid under his fingers. Maybe if he’d held on a little longer when he went through the portal, Cas wouldn’t have...

“Dean,” Castiel murmured. He dropped the remote and started to rise, but Dean shook his head and let him go.

“I’m just gonna…” Dean set his Coke down on the nightstand. He stood there for a moment, avoiding Castiel’s gaze by staring determinedly at the Animal Planet special filling the TV screen. There were meerkats everywhere. They were kinda cute.

Sam had stopped typing. When Dean glanced away from the TV, he found both of them staring at him.

“Gonna take a shower,” Dean blurted.

The door slamming closed was only a small relief. His jaw clenched as his head thunked back against the cheap wood paneling. He imagined Benny’s voice, his easy, “ _I’m glad he’s okay,”_ and a little curl of the warmth he’d felt before pooled in his chest.

“Fuck it,” Dean muttered. He stripped down, avoiding his own reflection as he passed the mirror.

Showers had always been one of the few places Dean could truly relax. Even if it was only for a few minutes, everything was warm and wet and dark, quiet in a way that Dean’s life never was. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back into the spray, cranked as hot as he could stand it. The lingering bite mark stung as the water rushed over it. Dean shuddered and reached up to press two fingers into the bruise until a dull ache bloomed under his skin. The sensation curled right down between his legs—Dean let out a relieved sigh when he felt his cock begin to thicken.

He didn’t try to rush it. Everyone was safe, there was no case. It made it easy to focus on the pain under his fingers, to remember the burn of Benny’s fangs and the heavy, solid weight of him. It wasn’t often that Dean felt safe, and wasn’t it just his special brand of fucked up that a vampire was the one to give that to him?

Dean shook his head. He dug his fingers in deeper, hissed as the pain spiked and chased the thrill of it down to his half-hard cock. He curled his fingers around the base and just let it rest there in his palm, heavy and warm. The feel of it hardening in his grip was so familiar that it was as comforting as it was arousing. He rocked his hips a few times, sliding loose and easy through his fist, letting out a low hum of pleasure that he knew wouldn’t be heard over the pounding of the water.

It didn’t take him long to find a rhythm, his fingers kneading into the bruise in time to his hips rocking into his hand. He swiped his thumb over the head on every pass and knew this wasn’t going to take him long—he could already feel it building in his gut. When he came it was with a particularly harsh dig into the bite and teeth sunk into his lower lip, and the soft phantom sounds of a bayou drawl echoing in his ears.

He leaned against steam-warmed tile afterward, watching his come swirl down the drain through half-lidded eyes.

By the time he finally climbed out and tumbled back into the room, towel wrapped around his hips and water dripping into his eyes, he felt like he could handle his family again.

Castiel looked up as Dean bent down to dig through his duffel for a clean pair of sweats. The can of soda was on the floor by his foot.

“Dean,” Castiel said solemnly. “I don’t like Coke.”

Dean laughed, and promised to get him root beer next time.

~

_"Will you quit that."_

Dean couldn’t. It was two days later and he was hiding out behind the world’s smallest gas station, one hand braced on a knee, so he didn’t faceplant the pavement. Drawing a real breath had become an issue about three minutes ago, but every time he pictured what Benny just told him he lost any semblance of composure.

_"It's not that funny."_

"It's that funny," Dean gasped. He shoved himself upright only to collapse back against the cement wall, distantly noting the sting of pain as his skull connected. "What did you do?"

_"I rinsed it off and got back to work."_

Dean froze. "You washed perfectly good pie down the drain?"

 _"I didn't have anyone there to lick it off of me."_ Benny's tone was light, just about as innocent as he could possibly make it, and Dean still ducked his head as heat pooled in his cheeks.

"You coulda scraped some of it off," Dean muttered.

There was a pause, followed by a small, choked sound. Dean glared at the phone when he realized Benny was holding in a laugh.

"Did you get her back?" Dean asked.

_"Yeah. With the chocolate cream. But I waited until we were almost closed."_

"Aw, come on! Have you never been in a prank war? Your retaliation has to be worse than what she did. No goin' easy on her just 'cause she's your granddaughter. Sammy and I used to do this all the time, trust me, I know how this works."

_"Used to?"_

Dean blinked. He frowned, trying to pull up any memory of the last time they'd pranked each other, and had to go back about six years to find it.

"Yeah, 's been a while," he said.

_"Seems to me you two might benefit from some of that. Somethin' to remind you of how you used to be. Might help mend some fences?"_

"Yeah." Dean smiled down at the ground and shoved some of the gravel around with the toe of his boot. "Yeah, maybe."

By the time he headed back to the Impala, there was a small smile on his face and a stubborn warmth lodged in his chest.

Castiel was pumping gas into the car, which would probably give Dean a small heart attack if it wasn't for Sam standing right beside him, supervising.

There was also a disturbingly large amount of candy piled on the front seat that seemed to consist entirely of different kinds of gummies.

"Cas picked out the snacks," Sam offered before Dean could even ask.

"Awesome." Dean snatched up a bag of gummy worms. He tossed a considering glance at Sam, who was taking the pump from Castiel and replacing it while Cas screwed the gas cap back into place.

"Dean?" Sam jingled the keys at him and Dean started, quickly slipping the gummies into his pocket. "You want me to drive for a while?"

"Nah, I'm good." Dean grabbed the keys and slid into the driver’s seat before Sam could try to change his mind. He stared down at the pocket concealing the gummies, a quick grin flitting across his face before he shoved them deeper into his coat pocket.

~

That night, Dean flicked on the bedside lamp and carefully laid a gummy worm over Sam's upper lip.

"What are you doing?" Castiel whispered. He'd been pretending to sleep in the chair for Dean's benefit. Now he was leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees, head tipped in curiosity.

Dean grinned. "Wormstache," he whispered back. He took his phone from the nightstand and snapped a quick picture. Sam mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, smashing the worm between his face and the pillow.

Castiel frowned. "I don't understand."

Muffling his laughter at the tip of the gummy sticking out from under Sam’s face, Dean slipped another worm from the packet and licked one side. Then he crossed the room and stuck it right above Castiel’s lip.

"I'm mending fences," Dean told him around helpless snickers as Castiel stared up at him, astonished.

~

Sam was quiet when he found the sticky worm plastered to his cheek the next morning, and the photo open on Dean's phone. He laughed when Castiel showed him the gummy he somehow kept stuck to his lip all night (Dean had pictures of that, too), and went to take a shower like nothing had happened.

Dean was starting to think the whole thing was a bust, until he went to take a shower himself and the water gushed out a bright blue.

“SAM!” Dean slammed open the door, one towel wrapped around his (very blue) waist and another desperately attempting to scrub the color from his hair. “How the hell did you even do this?”

Sam was crumpled at the foot of his bed, arms clutched around his stomach as he wheezed with laughter. He shook his head wildly and sucked in a deep breath, only to collapse all over again when he saw the glare on Dean’s face.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Castiel said. The damn worm was still stuck to his face. “It will fade in about twenty-four hours.”

Dean gaped at him. Castiel just smiled.

~

It only took sixteen hours for the blue to vanish from Dean's skin. Castiel wore the worm until people began to ask him questions about it. When Dean called Benny to tell him the story, he laughed so hard he choked.

~

Dean was sorry to leave Castiel with Fred Jones a few days later, but he got it. Cas needed to get himself figured out, and Dean knew sometimes that required solitude. He made Castiel swear to check in with them sometimes and left the wacky hunt in the rear view mirror.

"You're so lucky," Dean said about an hour out of town. "I was gonna ask Cas to turn you pink."

"Ha, ha." Sam casually flipped him off and resumed scrolling through something on his phone. "I'm not finding any hunts nearby."

They stopped a few towns over, ordered a pizza and kicked back with the box between them to watch whatever bad movies they could find on TV. Sam passed out with his hand still in the box after only two. Dean carefully pulled it away from him and used a few napkins to wipe the grease from Sam's fingers. He turned the TV off, but he wasn’t tired yet.

His hand wriggled into his pocket, the very tip of his index finger stretching down to tap against his phone.

Sam let out a soft snore and burrowed into the pillows. Dean watched him for a moment. When his brother showed no signs of waking, Dean slipped outside.

It was a cool night. Dean regretted not grabbing his coat when a breeze kicked up, rubbing the chill into his cheeks, but he didn’t turn around to get it. He just pulled his plaid overshirt more tightly around himself, and hopped up onto the hood of the Impala.

His phone informed him that it was nearly 9 p.m. He couldn’t remember what time Benny worked, but he dialed his number anyway. While it rang, he dug two fingers into the healed mark on his shoulder.

_"Hey, Dean. My shift's just about over, can I call you back?"_

"Sure."

_"Great, just gimme ten minutes."_

The line went dead, but Dean found himself grinning as he lowered the phone into his lap. Benny was working, and he answered Dean anyway. He always answered.

Dean sighed softly and fell back onto the hood. A few stars peeked through the thin cloud cover. The breeze rolled down over his face—he closed his eyes and shivered when goosebumps rose along his arms.

When the phone rang, Dean had no idea if it had been ten minutes or an hour. A quick glance at the screen before he tapped the answer key told him it had actually only been eight.

"Hey."

_"Hey. Has the prank war ended yet?"_

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, Sam and I called a truce, kind of. But man, I gotta tell you about this hunt."

The breeze never died down, but after a while Dean stopped feeling it. He talked about the hunt, Benny talked about his job. Dean laid a hand over his stomach and had a strange moment where he marveled at how hot he felt through his t-shirt. The hood had warmed under him, but the wind was just as sharp, biting relentlessly into his skin.

_"Dean?"_

Dean blinked. Benny's voice sent that now familiar curl of warmth deep down into his chest.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Just thinking."

_"'Bout what?"_

Dean grinned. "Nothin'."

~

Dean was picking up lunch a few states over the next time Benny called.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dean shoved the phone between his ear and shoulder as he picked up his drink tray. “I don’t have long, just grabbing lunch.”

_"I've got a bit of a problem, brother. Had some hunter tailin' me for about a week, and now I've got a vampire in town tryin’ to get me to join his nest. Could use some help."_

A few yards away, Sam shifted in the passenger seat and lifted his phone to his ear. Dean watched his expression slowly darken with a sickening sense of dread.

"Carencro, right?"

_"Yeah."_

"'‘K. I'm on my way."

_"Thanks, brother."_

Dean hung up. He tucked his phone back into his pocket and just stood there, watching Sam speak rapidly into the phone. His voice rose enough for Dean to hear him, if not his specific words, before he finally punched the button to end the call.

"We gotta get," Sam said when Dean slid into the seat.

"Can I at least finish my burger?" Dean set the tray on the seat and picked up his burger without waiting for permission. He had the keys, Sam could damn well wait. "What's up?"

"We have a vamp kill. Carencro, Louisiana."

The word "kill" got lodged in Dean's throat, right along with his mouthful. He had to choke the bite down and close his eyes to keep it there. "Okay. Who's the source?"

"Martin Creaser."

Dean's eyes snapped open. "Martin? Crazy Martin, from the loony bin? What the hell is he doing on a hunt?"

"Not a hunt, he's tracking. He got out a little while ago and asked if I had anything for him to ease back into, so I've had him keeping an eye on Benny."

Slowly, Dean lowered his burger. One by one, he unwrapped his fingers from it. The bun was completely crushed. "And Martin says Benny killed someone?"

When Dean finally looked over, Sam's eyes were narrow, his jaw clenched tight. He gave a single nod and his shoulders squared up, ready for the fight he was so sure Dean was about to give him.

"Okay," Dean said quietly.

Sam blinked. "Okay?"

Dean nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

~

Dean walked out of Martin’s motel room six hours later, stunned. He braced a hand on the Impala's roof and stared at his own murky reflection in the driver’s side window. There was a grin lodged somewhere in the back of his throat, ready to creep up over his tongue and out into the world any minute now, only Dean kept choking on it. There was a doubt in the back of his mind, a whisper that said if he let himself be happy, then it never would have happened.

“It” being Sam giving him time. Not outright taking Dean's side, but trusting him to use his time wisely and come back to Sam in the end. A step back towards the Sam that once fought for the freedom of an entire nest of vamps and wrestled Dean out of his black and white little world.

The smile shuddered over Dean's lips and retreated to hide behind his teeth.

Once he was out on the road, Dean flipped open his phone and dialed Benny. Sam hadn't given him much time, and Martin's patience was so thin it might as well have been transparent.

“ _Dean.”_

“I need to know where you are,” Dean said quickly.

“ _Little ways out of town. Just go out the way you came in, pull off the road about a quarter mile down. Left side. There's a trail, you'll find me.”_

“Got it.” Dean snapped the phone shut and tossed it onto the seat.

The place was fairly obvious, a cleared space along the side of the road that looked like it might have been a kind of rest stop at one point. There were clear tire marks where Benny had taken his truck off the road. Dean followed them on foot, unwilling to risk his Baby's undercarriage out here.

He found Benny about ten minutes later, standing beside his truck, washing blood from his hands.

Shit.

Benny froze when Dean stopped by the bumper. He didn't turn, but Dean saw him slowly lift his hands and flick the water from them.

“You didn't...” Dean swallowed hard and looked down at his boots. His fingers twitched towards the machete he didn't have, hadn't thought to actually stick in his belt because it was Benny, damn it. He didn't need it. He _didn't._

“Nah.” Benny turned and Dean could see more blood spattered down his chest. “Rogue vamp. Used to be part of my old nest, he's tryin' to make a new one now. Wants me to join up, thinks I'd give him some credibility or somethin'.”

“The blood?” Dean tipped his head towards the water. “We came here because of a vamp kill. Doesn't look good, Benny.”

“You think I woulda called you if I was the one that killed 'em?” Benny snapped. “He killed the first one after I said no, and he killed this one when I told him no for a second time. I won't make that mistake again. I'm gonna call him up and say yes, and then when I meet him, I'll kill him. I figured you'd wanna help.”

Dean drew in a deep breath and shoved his hands into his pockets before he did something stupid, like pull Benny into a hug. It was ridiculous how relieved he was, or maybe how easily he believed his friend.

“Sam put Martin on you,” Dean said. “I didn't know until today. He didn't believe you were clean.”

Benny sighed. He shrugged one shoulder and quirked a wry little half-grin at Dean. “Can't say I blame him.”

They were quiet a moment, and then Dean yanked his hands free and clapped an arm around Benny's shoulders because fuck it. Benny tucked his face into Dean's throat and breathed in deeply. Dean shuddered and relaxed into it, quietly amazed by the tension that fled his body from nothing more than a hug and a nuzzle.

 

“I gotta take care of Sam,” Dean murmured. He let himself hook his chin over Benny's shoulder and sighed. “He gave me some time, but I don't know if he'll... damn it, I feel like we're just starting to be okay again. But Martin won't listen. He wants you dead.”

Benny nodded. His nose brushed against Dean's throat with the motion, light enough to tickle and make Dean snort.

“Could just go?” Benny suggested. “Call Sam, tell him you've got it covered. He can deal with the other hunter.”

Dean sighed. He pulled back enough to press his forehead to Benny's shoulder, then backed away completely. “Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that. You make your call, meet me back at the road.”

Dean pulled out his phone and dialed Sam as soon as he was out of sight.

Sam answered after one ring.

“So?”

“It's not Benny,” Dean said.

He paused, waiting for the disbelief... that didn't come. He heard a slow, deep breath, then Sam murmured for him to continue.

“It's some vamp Benny knew from his old nest,” Dean said. “We've got it covered.”

Another breath, sharp this time. Dean tensed, but all that came was, “Okay. You sure you don't need help?”

Dean nearly sagged right to the ground with relief. “Nah, we got it,” he assured Sam. “It's just one vamp, and Benny's setting a trap for him.”

“K. I'll get a room, and take care of Martin. Just... promise me you'll be careful. And that you'll make sure Benny isn't involved.”

“Cross my heart,” Dean promised, and hung up the phone.

~

“Well, this isn’t a cliche,” he snarked an hour later.

Benny raised an eyebrow. He tossed a look at the old shipyard building over his shoulder and shrugged. “Maybe, but no one’ll hear us out here. How we goin’ in?”

Dean patted his pocket to check for the dead man’s blood. His machete was already tucked into his belt, and Benny had the Purgatory blade in his hand. “I’ll be obvious about going in, try to get this guy’s attention. I can keep him busy while you take his head off.”

“Sounds good.” Benny hefted the blade in his hand, gave it a quick, practiced twirl. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t take a bite outta you.”

Dean huffed a laugh. He went to take a step and suddenly Benny was right there, sliding an arm around Dean’s lower back. He dipped his head and drew in a deep breath, reached up to tug Dean’s shirts aside, so he could thumb over the jagged scar on his shoulder. The hunter shivered.

“I’m the only one that gets to take a bite out of you,” Benny murmured. He swiped his tongue across the scar and Dean groaned.

“Not getting anything done if you keep that up,” Dean said breathlessly. He dropped his head to the vampire’s shoulder, shuddering when Benny scraped blunt teeth over the mark.

The arm around his waist squeezed once, hard. Then Benny drew back, eyes narrow, hand trailing over Dean’s hip before falling away.

Dean’s voice was hoarse when he told Benny to give him two minutes.

It was dark, nothing in the crumbling building to see by until Dean went upstairs. There the moonlight filtered in through holes in the roof, though it did more to deepen the shadows than give Dean better visibility. He squinted into it, one hand curled around the handle of his machete and the other partially lifted towards the blood in his pocket.

The floor creaked under his boots. Dean paused, listening for any other signs of movement. Another creak behind him—he whirled. The vampire struck him in the chest, sending them both slamming down into the hardwood.

Dean grunted, hand scrambling for the dead man’s blood. He popped the cap off, but the vampire grabbed his hand and squeezed. Dean bit back a cry when the plastic cracked in his hand, thick liquid rushing down his arm and shards digging into his palm. He tried to kick, landed a blow to the vampire’s shin, but he only snarled and dropped his fangs. A hand slashed out, one long fingernail slicing into Dean’s throat and making him hiss. The vampire grinned and licked the blood off his finger.

“Sick bastard…” Dean snarled, struggling to get an arm free.

A blade went through the vampire’s neck. The head toppled down by Dean’s shoulder and rolled away, bumping softly off a tipped chair.

“What took you so long?” He grumbled, shoving the body off of him and reaching up, his machete left on the ground.

“Looked like you were handlin’ things just fine,” Benny teased. He slapped a hand into Dean’s, curled thick fingers around his wrist… and then froze.

“Benny?” Dean tugged on his hand. “You good?”

Benny’s eyes narrowed, darkened. Something hot and slick rolled down Dean’s neck. The sting registered in a rush—Dean sucked in a sharp breath and found himself tugging on Benny’s hand again, trying to pull him down.

“Dean…” Benny warned, but he was already falling to his knees, straddling the hunter’s hips and leaning in. Warm breath gusted over Dean’s throat. “Your brother’ll see it here.”

“Don’t care.” Dean released his hand, wrapping it around the back of the vampire’s neck instead. He could already feel his cock thickening, the memory of the burn he knew was coming all tangled up in arousal and pleasure signals.

Benny threaded a hand into Dean’s hair and tugged his head to one side, sending a shiver through Dean when he felt the sharp sting of a tongue swiping over the cut. He bucked his hips up, pressed his erection to Benny’s thigh. The vampire lunged up onto his knees, ignoring Dean’s displeased growl in favor of tearing open his own fly and working his hard cock out of his boxers.

“Sometime soon,” Benny muttered as he popped the button on Dean’s jeans. “I’m going to get you fully naked for this.”

Dean laughed, too loud and hysterical in the silence of the room. It melted into a moan when Benny reached in and tugged his cock free of his underwear, stroking a thumb over the head before settling back down over Dean.

He didn’t give him any warning before sinking his fangs in. Dean shouted and bucked his hips, toes curling in his boots. He shoved a hand between them and wrapped it around both their cocks, jerking short and awkward in the too-tight space. The hand in his hair began to stroke, petting him almost frantically as Benny worked his tongue over the wound.

There was a brief moment of wondering what it might be like to have Benny’s dick inside him at the same time as his fangs and that was it—he came embarrassingly fast, whimpering as the pain in his throat mutated into something easily confused with pleasure.

Carefully, Benny withdrew his fangs. He licked the bite a few times and Dean made a noise disturbingly close to a purr.

“Is it possible to get addicted to vampire bites?” Dean mumbled.

“Actually, yes.” Benny pushed himself up onto his elbows. He was still hard in Dean’s hand, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to move just yet. “Used to be a pretty common thing to feed this way, few hundred years or so ago. Don’t worry, I won’t let you get too used to it.”

He offered Dean a crooked little grin and Dean smiled lazily. He pulled his hand away and shoved at Benny’s shoulder until the vampire rolled onto his back, eyebrows raised in question.

Rolling onto his side, Dean got his hand back on Benny’s cock. It was thicker than Dean’s, but not as long. Dean pressed a thumb just beneath the head curiously, watching Benny hiss and buck into his hand. Jerking off another man was the furthest Dean had ever gone, but he found himself wondering again what it might be like to have that inside him. His mouth watered at the idea of wrapping his lips around the head, but he settled for quick, tight strokes—if he was going to experiment, it would be in a bed that didn’t have his back and knees screaming at him for the abuse of a hard floor.

On impulse, Dean bent his head and bit Benny’s neck, digging in just hard enough to break skin.

“Dean!” Benny thrashed, pumping his hips as come spilled over Dean’s hand.

Dean lifted his head to watch. He squeezed his hand on the upstroke, milking the last of it out of Benny as the vampire went limp beneath him. Other than being unusually cool, it was no different than when Dean came, but he found himself dragging his fingers through it anyway, rucking up Benny’s shirt just to smear it into his skin.

“You havin’ fun down there?” Benny murmured.

Dean drew a smiley face with the come. Benny laughed, quiet and helpless. When Dean turned to grin at him, Benny wrapped a hand around his head and pulled him down for a kiss.

It was a light press, almost a question until Dean slowly parted his lips and stroked hesitantly at Benny’s tongue with his own. The vampire flicked back behind Dean’s teeth, brushed over the sensitive palate before retreating to nip at Dean’s lower lip. The hint of fangs not quite fully retracted nicked Dean’s flesh and drew a bead of blood that was immediately licked away. It left a tingle in its wake, a not-quite-pain that made Dean want to press closer and break himself open.

Benny pulled back after a moment. He rubbed the tips of his fingers along the back of Dean’s neck before heaving a sigh and sitting up.

“Should probably take care of that.” Benny waved a hand at the headless body five, maybe six, feet away.

“Can we feed it to alligators?” Dean asked hopefully.

Benny threw his head back on a deep belly laugh. He slapped Dean on the shoulder and scrambled to his feet, offering Dean a hand once he was there.

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he pulled Dean up. “We can feed it to alligators.” He yanked Dean in and bent his head to breathe directly into Dean’s ear, “And then I’m gettin’ us a room, so we can do this right.”

He reached down and cupped Dean’s soft cock in his hand, tucking it gently back into his boxers and zipping him up. Dean felt his cheeks flush and ducked his head to hide it, busying himself with returning the favor.

They were dumping the body and head in the back of Benny’s truck when Dean said quietly, “You know you gotta leave, right?”

The vampire sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

Dean nodded. “Just… other hunters won’t care. They’ll take you out.”

“Yeah.” Benny slammed the tailgate closed. “Think I’ll head west. Haven’t seen much of that side of the country.”

“Wyoming’s nice,” Dean offered. He shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffed a toe over the cracked pavement and blurted, “Seem to get lots of hunts there.”

When Dean glanced up, Benny was grinning. “Wyoming it is,” he said easily. “Now, let’s dump this body, so I can take care of you properly.”

The damn blush came back in full force, and Dean ducked his head again, silently cursing himself even as he bit back a grin.

“Gotta call Sam,” Dean said. “Just give me a sec.”

Benny nodded. He hopped into the truck while Dean took the few steps to the Impala, tugging his phone from his jeans pocket and punching Sam’s number.

“Hey. Just letting you know I won’t be back tonight.”

~

Epilogue

~

Sam let the phone vibrate three times before he punched the answer button.

“Hey, Dean.”

“ _Hey. Just letting you know I won’t be back tonight.”_

“Okay.” That was fine. He’d managed to get Martin to move on, followed him out of town and waited on the road to make sure he wasn’t coming back. “Check out is at 11 a.m.; think you’ll be back by then?”

“ _Yeah, should be.”_

“Great. I’ll see you then. And Dean?”

“ _Yeah?”_

“If you want to tell me about you and Benny, I’ll listen. Just so you know.”

There was a pause, then a quiet, “ _Thanks, Sammy.”_

Sam hung up and, through the trees and across the old parking lot, watched Dean do the same.

He was concerned. Not stalking. Concerned.

From what he’d seen, he had no reason to be. They worked together like two normal hunters. Benny had Dean’s back and hadn’t given a single indication that he would do otherwise since Sam followed them from their meeting place.

He watched Dean get in the Impala and follow Benny’s truck back to the main road. When they were out of sight, he backtracked to the car he’d stolen from the motel parking lot. Morons had left their keys in the ignition. With any luck, he could have it back before anyone woke up and knew it had ever been gone at all.

He just really, really hoped Dean and Benny didn’t pick the same motel.

~

  
END

 


End file.
